


Night and Day

by Malind



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-12-29
Updated: 2011-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:33:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25451713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Malind/pseuds/Malind
Relationships: Vincent Valentine/Sephiroth
Kudos: 2





	Night and Day

Night, day, light, dark, those ideas had no meaning to him anymore. Even as the sun beamed down on him for the first time in... He didn’t even know how many days, months, perhaps years... Vincent wanted to shut out the light’s overpowering glare as much as he wanted to get rid of the darkness eroding his body. Sitting haphazardly on the stone step, he bought his arm over his face and squeezed his eyes shut. A heavy door closed behind him. The final grinding clank startled his body.

Hojo hadn’t said a word, so unlike him. Not that Turk – as if could he even consider himself a Turk anymore -- wanted to hear a single more egotistical syllable out of his grinning, frowning, and often enraged mouth. The scientist hadn’t always been like that. There was a time when he’d heard the scientist was actually quite brilliant, rising on the coat tails of his predecessor and mentor. Now, after everything that had happened to himself, to Lucretia... The scientist was a fucking fruitcake.

‘As if you’re one to judge,’ Lucretia whispered, now a mere memory in is mind.

“As if...”

Before, he would have fought; he would have killed Hojo once he realized what the man was. He would have walked away from Lucretia once he knew how easily she could be manipulated. How she could betray him when he’d trusted her, fought for her. How she would tear him and his body apart.

Where had all his fight gone? Never mind being a Turk, a cold blooded killer. Could he even consider himself a man anymore? His body shivered involuntarily under the heat. What was left of his soul?

‘But I am... so sorry... Please forget me.’ He remembered the curve of her face, her neck, her shoulders, her spine, as she turned away from him. He’d barely heard the, ‘I already have.’

His eyes closed tighter at the last words he’d ever heard from her delicious lips. Teeth ground. Could he forget? Her request was as unreasonable now as it had been back then.

“As if I could...”

Footsteps kicked at loose rocks on the pathway. An ability drilled into his brain, he could tell from the distant stride that the newcomer was a bit abnormally tall but still within a normal weight. At least he still had a bit of Turk in him. His tattered-suited arm lowered. Crimson eyes peered through mere slits. That was a mistake. Pure white light burned his eyes and he instantly closed them again.

The closer the footsteps got, the slower they became until they stopped several yards from him.

“This is private property, Sir,” a man spoke fluidly, far too easily and controlling. If the ex-Turk had to guess, he would have said without a doubt that the other was a SOLDIER. The man paused and then added, the voice growing a touch muddled. “Unless you have business here?”

Vincent snorted, a twitch-like reaction to something he wished wasn’t true. He had so much business here, he didn’t even know where to start.

“Sir...”

Again, the gunman tried to look up and was a bit relieved when he realized the man’s head covered up the sun, but that also left the man in a SOLDIER’s uniform’s face in darkness. Waist length white hair fluttered under the calm breeze. Vincent also took note of the long sword that almost managed to dwarf its owner.

“Do you have business here?”

“No, I...”

The other man gave him a moment to finish, a short one. “Then I’ll have to ask you to leave. This is private property of Shin-Ra.”

The raven-haired man cleared his throat and stumbled a bit when he forced himself to stand. The other man walked up to him, to his side, out of the light. Finally he could see his face. What he saw there stopped him dead. The man was young, still some distance from being an adult, but his features. . . His features made his heart catch. The man was frowning back a bit, but nonetheless held far more control than Vincent felt. “You...”

The frown grew increasingly unsure. The silver-haired man cleared his throat, and repeated, “Please leave now, unless you need escorting.”

The door of the mansion opened with far more enthusiasm than it had closed a while earlier. Both men turned their heads to it.

“Ah, Sephiroth, what a surprise. You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you until the end of the week.”

Sephiroth. The name took Vincent’s breath away. It was the name Lucretia had given their son.

“Yes, I completed my mission early,” the man said clearly, but with a heaviness directed at Hojo Vincent couldn’t define, but completely understood. “So I saw no reason to delay.”

Vincent could almost hear the: ‘so let’s get this over with.’

The young man turned back to him. “This man -”

“Is quite on his way out the door.” Hojo took a step outside. “Come, come inside and I’ll show you to your room.”


End file.
